


Rain

by jst4alaugh



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21912271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jst4alaugh/pseuds/jst4alaugh
Summary: Story about the three Amegakure orphans set during the Third Shinobi War / But things take a VERY unprecedented path / Canon divergence focusing mainly on Konan and Yahiko / Best to go into it blind / Takes place when everyone is 18
Relationships: Konan/Yahiko (Naruto)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. PROLOGUE

P R O L O G U E

**A S H E ST OA S H E S**

SEVEN had always been a bittersweet number for Yahiko.

Yahiko was seven years old when he lost his parents.

He was seven years old when he realised that the fact that his village was now a collection of burned ashes, unable to boast of even one upstanding building, meant that he had most certainly lost his grandparents too.

He was seven years old when he found himself crying uncontrollably, with a sense of _hurt_ so deep it felt like a physical force twisting his insides – a force that transformed itself into a heady, intoxicating sense of anger when he promised himself (later that evening) that he would _never_ cry again. No matter what _they_ did – although, in all honesty, he couldn’t have specified who ‘they’ were. Yahiko had just been trying to hold onto the anger. Even at that small age, a part of him had realised that if he let the anger go, the only thing that would remain was loneliness. 

He was seven years old and already an orphan.

He was also seven years old when he met Konan.

Konan had been indescribable, even for a girl his age. The thing Yahiko had found most baffling about her hadn’t been her unusual blue hair or her expressive hazel eyes (always quick to roll when he made some stupid pun) or even the fact that she hadn’t cried when he’d found her (but rather seemed to take her newfound orphanhood in her stride). No, the thing that had surprised Yahiko the most was her _effect_ on him. The moment she’d landed on him, she’d knocked the wind out of him, true, but it was like she’d also smacked a sense of hope back into him.

Yahiko had always been a ‘go-getter’, as his grandfather had once lovingly described him. For a moment, that spark had been extinguished – but Konan, with her unorthodox presence, had flicked it back to life. After all, with her around Yahiko wasn’t alone anymore.

Together, they became stronger for their struggles. They learned to be creative with their survival; begging, stealing, prioritising. Yahiko likened their ‘day job’ to acting – they’d take turns pretending to look for their parents, ask annoying questions, even faint – anything to distract the frugal merchants long enough for the other to nab some food. Yahiko knew Konan hated deceiving just as much as he did. The universe couldn’t have cared less, however; war was in full swing, resources were scarce, and the only people surviving were those with the strongest will to do so.

Despite their often rumbling stomachs and dingy reality, Yahiko could admit a small part of him was thankful. Not for the state of his country, or at his bleak future prospects – but for his friend. And hand-in-hand with his sense of gratefulness came a small, Konan-shaped sliver of happiness.

_Things could’ve been worse._

On his eight birthday, Konan surprised him with a cake. Well, not a real cake. She’d managed to steal a small lump of stale bread and decorated it with some questionable cream cheese. It was meant to resemble a cake – she’d even used their coveted and rapidly deteriorating supply of blueberries to decorate it. It had tasted pretty foul (and when a starving orphan thinks something tastes bad, you _know_ it’s bad) – but Yahiko had known better than to do anything less than pretend it was absolutely scrumptious.

Later that night, tucked in his sleeping bag with his stomach gurgling it’s complaints, Yahiko hadn’t been able to keep a smile off his face. He’d turned his face towards the centre of the cave the two had claimed as their makeshift home. Konan was already sound asleep, the dwindling lights of their firepit highlighting her milky skin and blue hair in a warm glow. Yahiko had smiled wider. It had been a good day, and he’d momentarily forgotten all the terrible ones. _Maybe_ _this is all I need,_ had been his last, hazy thought.

The next day, their somewhat stable routine had been disrupted by a young boy and his pooch. _Konan and her blimmin’ big heart_ , Yahiko had inwardly grumbled, as he folded his arms and studied their new recruits.

Nagato was a shy boy, initially stumbling over his own name (“Chibi is a weird name,” Yahiko had mused aloud). Yahiko had been slower to warm up to him than he had been to Konan. After all, Nagato and his canine were another two mouths to feed (though it did not escape Yahiko’s notice that Konan had _always_ wanted a puppy and had bonded with little Chibi awfully quickly). But by the end of the month, Yahiko would’ve gladly given his life for either of his two best friends.

They lived together for many months, arguing very infrequently – it was hard to get mad over the little things or ‘annoying’ habits when the war around them constantly provided a grim dose of perspective. They were alive, they often had enough food to get by and – most importantly – they had each other. Through the tough times, and then better ones too.

They were together when Chibi passed away, and Nagato couldn’t hold back his tears. Together when they went searching for instructors of ninjutsu and together under Jariyah’s tutelage.

By his tenth birthday, Yahiko couldn’t imagine life without Konan, Nagato and Jariyah.

And then, all of a sudden Yahiko was 11, and everything had changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for taking the time to read the beginnings of this story : )
> 
> I've recently stumbled back into Naruto and finally finished the Pain Arc, and the Amegakure orphans piqued my interest! And because we know a little about them, but not everything, this little story popped into my mind. And ideas kept accumulating until I had an entire plot and couldn't NOT write this story down. 
> 
> And this... is the result, I guess, heh.


	2. ONE

**Eight years later…**

O N E

**G H O S T S**

“YAHIKO’S not going to be happy about this…”

Nagato heard the murmur arise from the general direction of their intelligence group, the five members of which were clustered around two small wooden tables by the only window with a view. Outside, rain was falling heavily and the temperature had dropped; several members were cradling cups of steaming coffee or tea.

Nagato hesitated. They were probably on their lunch break and, in all honesty, there were lots of things Yahiko might not have been happy about – most of which were fairly benign. The last grievance to irk their fiery haired young leader had been the influx of stray animals – ‘we already have THREE cats and TWO puppies!’ he’d bellowed in a team meeting last week, glaring at everyone. ‘And you all want to adopt _another_ cat off the street? Are we an organisation determined to secure peace for the Land of Rain or Noah’s fucking Ark?’ (‘ _Well, we certainly have the weather for the Ark,’_ had been Nagato’s response. This had roused chuckles from his fellow members and earned him a long-suffering sigh from Yahiko). Suffice to say, they now had four cats, their newest feline member dubbed Yahiko Jr over their leader’s exasperated protests.

“But do you think he’ll still be willing to do it?” Taki, one of the newest intel members, asked his colleagues. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and sipped his drink.

“Well, it’d be bad news for you or me, but if anyone could, it would be _him…_ And it’ll bring us all one step closer to our goal. I think he _will_ do it.”

“Probably, but…” Mae, the head of intel, chimed in, shaking her head slightly, “It doesn’t sit right with me. Besides, Yahiko’s reaction isn’t the only one warranting worrying about. I don’t even want to think of what’ll happen when he finally tells – ahhh, _Nagato_!” She caught sight of the red-haired boy and broke off, offering him a small smile. It didn’t escape Nagato’s notice that her cheerfulness appeared forced. “I thought you were rostered out as a field agent today.”

“Clearly.”

She chuckled. It was a nervous sound. “Off to meet Yahiko or to catalogue the latest information from our messengers then?”

“Both. But it’s Yahiko first – and I’m already five minutes late,” Nagato confided, walking towards the table and taking a cheeky sip of Mae’s coffee. She swatted him aside immediately, scowling at his impetuousness. Mae, at a feisty fifty years of age, was easily the oldest member of their organisation, and certainly not much of a fighter, but sharp as a tac. She reminded him of a younger version of his grandmother (and Yahiko too, he suspected).

Mae raised her eyebrows, her forehead wrinkles frowning along with her mouth. “Tardiness is not becoming, young man.”

“Except when there’s a good reason for it,” Nagato countered. “And it sounds like you might just have one.”

Mae sighed. “You’re getting smarter by the day. It’s annoying.” She tapped her fingers on the table, considering.

“You know something I don’t,” Nagato realised, the thought startling. “Something important.” He looked around the table; he was met with furtive eyes and guilty grins. “You _all_ do…”

Mae looked sympathetic. “Yahiko has an idea he wants to run past you.”

“Bullshit,” Nagato said. “He would’ve talked with me first, if that were the case. He’s not planning on running anything past me.” Nagato couldn’t believe he’d missed it – Yahiko’s urgent request to meet with him suddenly made a lot more sense. “He’s planning on doing something reckless again, isn’t he?” 

Mae just sipped her coffee. “You know how he is.” Her tone was non-committal. “There’s been a slight change in plans, however. I was planning on updating Yahiko myself, but I must admit, it’d free up my time if you could pass the message along.”

“Oh no,” Nagato shook his head, his tone unusually serious. “I’m not the type to pull rank, but I _am_ second in command. You’ve got to tell me what’s going on right now.” He let his grip on the Rinnegan’s power loosen – just a fraction – and allowed his chakra to punctuate just how serious he was. No one in this room knew of his special skill, but even a novice ninja could sense a powerful chakra when it hit him or her. There were two people whose safety he’d never take any chances with – and Yahiko was goddamn one of them.

Mae exchanged a look with the people around her. “Well, Yahiko really wanted to be the one to explain things to you… But I don’t think he’ll mind if I give you a general idea,” she conceded. “Nagato, there’s an offer that has been proposed to the Akatsuki. From the government.”

“Lightning or Water?”

Mae’s frowns deepened. “Oh, no, this isn’t simple contract work. This is a formal offer. From _the_ military government. _Our_ military leaders.” She looked at Nagato meaningfully.

His mouth dropped open. “Amegakure? H-Hanzo’s deigned to negotiate?”

“Somewhat. He’s asking for our assistance. He’s prepared to offer us a deal in return. He passed this offer to our field agents, who relayed it to Yahiko.” She hesitated, then added. “And Yahiko has agreed.” 

**

Nagato took the stairs up to floor three, mulling over Mae’s words.

 _Please, Nagato. Try convincing Yahiko to back out. Maybe he’ll actually listen if it’s coming from_ you _._

Nagato blew out a breath. _Fat chance_. He knew exactly how stubborn Yahiko could be. Still, he wasn’t planning on letting Yahiko do anything without giving him his own two cents – and Nagato was always more convincing when he was pissed off.

And boy, was he pissed off.

Once on the third floor, Nagato took the eastern corridor. He passed by some windows, but didn’t bother looking out.

Their entire building was only four floors high, so even on the rooftop the view wasn’t that great. Also, the roof itself was constantly leaking – due to a combination of a lack of maintenance and accumulated damage from bombings; two years ago, the Land of Wind had laid Ran’un under siege. One of the Rain Land’s most prospering villages, it had been a heavy blow. Five months later, Ran’un had been recovered and Rain control had been regained – but the village had been left nothing short of a ghost town.

Yet because Ran’un had been one of the largest civilian villages, once one of the many jewels of their land, government officials had tried their best to help the people recuperate, with varying results. Ran’un had since become a patchwork quilt, consisting of pockets of clean, respectable suburbs intermixed with those that were still clearly dilapidated (and often avoided). Unsurprisingly, this building was in the latter area – but for a group like them, that came with invaluable benefits; the cheap rent and inconspicuousness more than made up for the fourth floor always being flooded.

After all, when running an organisation like the Akatsuki, whose goals were so at odds with those of _all_ the other villages – even their own – one could never take too many precautions. The building also had a cellar and basement, which was nice insurance against future air strikes, not to mention a comfortable, dry home for their ever-growing number of animal friends.

Nagato faltered as he approached the door to Yahiko’s office, his anger wavering. His hand hovered above the door-handle. He had to admit, for all the problems they still had left to tackle, the Akatsuki come a long way. And none of it would’ve been possible without the young man behind that door – it wasn’t just Yahiko’s skill, it was his personality. No matter how hard things got, as long as Yahiko was around, Nagato felt they could get through anything. Maybe it was cheesy, but it made perfect sense given the two of them had grown up together. What had pleasantly surprised Nagato was how many other Akatsuki members also shared this feeling…

“Nagato,” he heard Yahiko drawl lazily. “Are you planning to enter anytime soon or will you just continue to stand out there, contemplating my magnificence?”

Just like that, his anger returned. “Fuck you,” Nagato said by way of greeting, barging into Yahiko’s office area. It was mainly used to plan their military strikes and contract work, filled with maps, tactic books, ninjutsu scrolls and even a blackboard. Whenever Yahiko was planning a new operation, he ended up sleeping at his desk, so his belongings often accumulated in the room as well.

Yahiko wasn’t seated at his desk right now, but packing said belongings (spare clothes, weapons, scrolls) into a simple black duffel bag. Nagato had expected as much, but the sight still infuriated him.

Yahiko paused, scroll in hand, and offered Nagato a sheepish grin. “Now what kind of greeting was that?”

“Oh I’m sorry, was that a bit rude? Let me try again.” Nagato folded his arms and cleared his throat. “Were you even planning on telling me about your trip before you actually left, you conniving bastard?”

Yahiko blinked. “Better,” he conceded, and continued packing his scroll away. “I strive for conniving every day.” He looked up, his eyes catching Nagato’s. “I take it you heard the news then?”

Nagato didn’t dignify that with a response, just walked past him and his desk strewn with documents outlining Konoha’s security and Yahiko Jr, who was curled up and sound asleep on his chair, and stood in front of the window, glaring at their crying land outside.

“Why?” Nagato said, and because Yahiko was Yahiko, he understood what his friend was really asking.

“Caught me off guard too, at first,” Yahiko grunted. “Hanzo is a pretty paranoid fellow. But it seems we’ve recently been bumped down on his ‘they’re-a-giant-pain-in-my-ass-and-need-to-be-destroyed’ list.” Yahiko gave a laboured sigh. “Which, if you ask me, is the real tragedy. I quite enjoyed being number one. Took a lot of work to get there.”

“We’ll probably be there again,” Nagato pointed out darkly. Yahiko enjoyed being a constant thorn in Hanzo’s side – a consistent reminder to their current military leader that there was a steadily growing faction of people who wanted an _end_ to the meaningless conflict. Nagato, for his part, suspected that Hanzo wouldn’t take lightly to any challenge to his power, perceived or otherwise. “Who beat us?”

“Konoha.”

“Of course.” That explained the papers on the desk. “What does Hanzo want?”

Yahiko finally stopped stashing his weapons away and gave Nagato an appraising look. “Apparently, there are rumours that Leaf has the Rinnegan.”

Well that… wasn’t what he’d expected to hear.

Yahiko held his gaze, a question buzzing in his honey coloured eyes. Nagato shook his head. No one but Yahiko, Konan and Jariyah knew of his own Rinnegan and that hadn’t changed.

Yahiko shoulder’s relaxed. “Thank god,” he breathed a sigh of relief, moving to stand beside Nagato. They both knew Nagato would become a massive target if word of his skill ever leaked.

When he had been younger, Nagato hadn’t been able to control the Rinnegan very well, even having to wear his hair long to hide his precious eyes. He’d come a long way since then. His normal irises were now a dark indigo that Yahiko joked looked more terrifying than the Rinnegan (but everyone else always complimented). 

“I thought you didn’t believe in god,” Nagato pointed out sourly.

Yahiko rolled his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you that your memory’s really annoying?”

Nagato ignored his comment. “I don’t think there’s another Rinnegan user out there. Jariyah made it clear it was miraculous enough that I had it.”

“It seems unlikely,” Yahiko agreed. “From what Hanzo has told me, it appears Konoha has been boasting of having the Rinnegan on their side. It’s not as if anyone else knows about the Rinnegan like _we_ do – to the elders of the Land of Rain, it’s plausible that a user would exist in a time such as this.

“Konoha is using the Rinnegan’s existence to pressure the Land of Rain into making certain agreements… So Holier-than-thou Hanzo has extended an informal offer to us. He wants us to send spies to Konoha and check whether it is true – and if, by some chance it _is_ , he wants to know who the bearer is.”

“Why us? This sound high stakes, and it’s no secret the man doesn’t trust us.”

Yahiko shrugged. “Konoha has heightened security. They’ve been dominating the war so far, and they’re not going to be easy to crack. Hanzo has discovered that Jariyah taught us for some time… Apparently…” Yahiko paused, his voice turning a little gruffer. A small smile settled on his lips as he continued, “Apparently Jariyah is still quite fond of us – asks about our whereabouts on his travels.” His smile fell away as he met Nagato’s piercing stare. “Hanzo thinks that’s our way in.”

“Do you think Jariyah told anyone – ”

“No,” said Yahiko firmly.

“How can you know that?”

“Because we _know_ him,” Yahiko said simply. “Jariyah wouldn’t do that.”

“We _knew_ him,” Nagato corrected. “A lot of time has passed since then.” Then he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with thumb and index finger. “But you’re right, he wouldn’t.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand. “Okay, okay. So we have someone else in Konoha with the Rinnegan, possibly. Hanzo’s curious, wants us to investigate. If we die in the process, it’s a win for him anyway, because he’s never been a fan of this organisation. But if we succeed – dispel the rumour or find the bearer, what’s in it for us?”

“Hanzo claims this is a test of loyalty. He’s ready to acknowledge our ideals, but we’ve contracted work with multiple lands over the years. If we can prove loyalty to Rain, he says he’s willing to incorporate us into Amegakure. Our ideals, with our hidden village’s might to back it up.”

Nagato considered his words. “At the expense of a Rinnegan bearer.”

“I don’t believe this bearer exists.” Yahiko’s gaze hardened, his entire face a promise. “But if he does, I won’t turn him in. _I swear it_.”

Nagato waved his words aside. “Save your promises for someone who needs them. It doesn’t matter to me. For all we know, the person might be a maniac.” He paused. “I’ve got to admit… It’s a good deal.”

“I know.”

“For _Hanzo_ ,” Nagato said. “Not us. We _won’t_ make it – Jariyah isn’t in the village right now.”

“The other two Sanin – ”

“Orochimaru wanted to _kill_ us when we were defenceless children. The only thing that’s changed is we’ve grown up and now he’ll have even less opposition to the notion of our deaths.”

“Wait a minute – ”

“And Tsunade… Last I heard, she was sent to the outskirts of the Land of Wind – ”

“Hang on, I think you’ve got the wrong idea – ”

“And Mae was informed _today_ that Hanzo requested that you depart for this mission a full three days earlier than intended. If that’s not a show of mistrust, I don’t know what is,” Nagato added. “Not to mention – ”

“Wait just one minute!” Yahiko interrupted. For a moment, Nagato thought he might’ve convinced him to reconsider, but then he said, “What do you mean _we?_ ” And Nagato had to hold himself back from punching his idealistic friend. “Nagato, you’re not coming – ”

“ _Of course_ I am coming with you,” Nagato snapped at Yahiko. After all, he had promises of his own to keep, goddammit!

“Nagato, it’s got to be me.” Yahiko smiled, and it was a helpless sort of grin, all teeth and charm and absolutely infuriating. “You’re right. It is dangerous, I’m not discounting that. But this thing we’re doing, it’s bigger than me. _You’re_ more important,” he poked Nagato’s chest, “and you care about all this as much as I do. I’m entrusting the Akatsuki to you while I’m gone.”

Nagato opened his mouth, and closed it. When he blinked, he thought of all the members of their organisation, all passionate and fired up and in desperate need of someone to lead them.

“You really think you can do this?” Nagato asked quietly.

“I haven’t rushed into this. I’ve thought of a plan that you can help me refine.” Nagato sighed – what a tricky bastard Yahiko was. He knew his audience; having a well thought out plan was the only way Nagato would consider getting on board. “And Orochimaru’s currently under review. Konoha isn’t taking his words too seriously right now. There’s really no one to stop me, let alone recognise me.” Yahiko winked. 

For all his confidence, Nagato felt Yahiko was forgetting one very important detail. “I can think of at least one person,” Nagato murmured softly, watching as Yahiko’s humour instantly evaporated.

When Yahiko finally looked up at Nagato, he looked tired. “We both know that’s not an issue anymore.” Lightning flashed outside, and Yahiko’s eyes flicked to the window. Nagato noticed his fists were clenched. “Fucking rain,” he grumbled in a low voice, before turning to resume his packing.


	3. TWO

T W O

**O N C ER E M O V E D**

...

KONAN’S alarm went off at dot six-thirty. More reliable than any mechanical clock, the noisy and enthusiastic grunts of her neighbour, as he completed his morning ritual of 1000 push-ups in thirty minutes, permeated through the walls of her apartment and into her brain.

 _Ugh_ , she thought blearily. _Time to wake up, I’guess…_

As she yawned and stretched, contemplating her day ahead, her neighbour’s words of self encouragement drifted through the wooden walls of her bedroom.

_You can do it, you magnificent beast!_

_No pain, no gain, and no gains means lots of emotional pain, lest your rival overtake you!_

_Youth is a fountain bubbling within you, feeding your vessels, heart and muscles with a never-fading source of strength!_

_And if I can’t complete this training successfully, tomorrow I shall wake up twice as early and do twice as much!_

_God_ , Konan rolled her eyes. _Guy was so_ weird. But it was an affectionate thought, because he was also one of her best friends. Groaning, she rolled out of bed and moved towards her kitchen, planning to start her kettle. Then his words finally sunk in and she paused, rapping her knuckles sharply against her bedroom wall.

“Glad to hear training’s going well, Guy,” she called through the thin timber, letting an edge creep into her voice. “But if you start any earlier than six-thirty, I _will_ throttle you.” After all, eighteen-year-old girls needed their sleep.

Guy was quiet for a moment.

Then, “Is that a promise?”

Despite herself, Konan laughed. Ever since he’d heard she was the next front runner for joining ANBU, Guy had been dying to spar with her. They’d both been busy with missions and hadn’t had a proper chance to get into it yet.

“Are you sure you really want to fight? You’ll just end up all bruised for your next challenge with Kakashi,” she teased. She grabbed some clothes for the day, pausing before heading out of her room - once she moved into the kitchen area, voices transferred less clearly. “We’re meeting at Ichiraku at 10am today, by the way.”

A chuckle sounded in response. “And what time did you tell _him_?”

“Nine, of course.”

**

Konan finished her morning laps around training field three in record time. She’d been out of the house by seven, and all done with her daily warm-up by eight. Guy would’ve been proud.

Panting to catch her breath, she leaned her back against a mighty oak, shielding her eyes against the brilliant blue sky above. The day was heating up already, and she was loving it. She grabbed her water bottle and doused her face with some, before chugging the rest. She was definitely a summer person.

That was the great thing about the Land of Fire. Apart from Lightning, they had the best weather - warm and dry for most of the year. Over her many years as a Konoha shinobi, she’d been sent to various other lands - Wind, Rain, Earth - and countless villages.

The weather in Wind was really unpredictable - it was always either blistering hot or raging with abrasive sandstorms. Earth, ironically, was too windy, infamous for hurricanes in both spring and autumn that travelled alarmingly well over the region’s vast flatlands. And Rain - oh geez. That place was perpetually in downpour. Konan still couldn’t decide if she found the weather romantic or depressing, but either way, she wouldn’t have wanted to live in that climate year-round.

 _‘You’re lucky you were born in the Fire region then,’_ Tsunade had said, when Konan had once shared these weather theories with her.

Konan had hummed in agreement, although she wasn’t sure if lucky was the right word.

Konan had lost her parents in the war at a very young age - so young, in fact, that she could only hazily remember them, let alone her childhood - and never without getting a disorienting headache. Supposedly, they had been a civilian family, in a small village in the rural outskirts of the Land of Fire. It was the type of nameless village that had ultimately been a tragic casualty of the constant skirmishes around Fire’s borders. 

Konan was sure Tsunade hadn’t planned to take care of a child in her mid-twenties, let alone one she’d had no prior connection to, but the brash Sanin always insisted that adopting Konan had been one of the best decisions she’d ever made… 

Konan sighed wistfully. It had been weeks since she’d seen her adoptive guardian, and she found herself missing her. Tsunade had been sent abroad to lead a team to the borders of Suna; Konoha troops stationed in the area had been hit by a nasty bout of poison from Suna’s puppet masters, and only Tsunade seemed able to procure effective antidotes. 

Konan blew a strand of blue hair out of her face, sliding down further so that she was now sitting, arms hugging her knees. She hoped Tsunade would be alright - she knew her team was also scheduled to pass by and actively assist the frontlines of the war effort before she actually returned home.

 _She’ll have Dan_ , Konan reminded herself. Tsunade’s boyfriend was gentle in every situation except the battlefield - Konan was sure he’d keep her from harm.

Besides, she knew this was the ninja way - they were _all_ always busy, always on missions. Especially now, when the war really seemed to be kicking into high gear - the great lands could sense the end was drawing near and every Kage was hellbent on ensuring a satisfactory outcome for their village. Even Kakashi, Guy and Konan were rarely in the village at the same time anymore.

 _Well, no point complaining._ Konan tilted her face up to the sun. _It is what it is._

She stood up, squaring her shoulders.

_Things could be worse._

After all, she had her own goals too. From a young age Konan had decided war wasn’t for her; although her Academy teachers had frequently complimented her ninjutsu and taijutsu and basic goddamn persistence, although she excelled at learning new techniques, and although she did enjoy the art of being a ninja, her true goal lay elsewhere…

It lay in finding peace.

**

By the time Konan left the training field, she could hear the quintessential sounds of a new day that had finally woken up; younger children heading off to school and vendors setting up their stalls.

“Sharpest Kunai knives in all the land – get ‘em right here!”

“Selling brand new scrolls – they’re just waiting to be filled with powerful ninjutsu secrets!”

With the displacement the war had caused, more and more street stalls had been popping up – men and women who’d previously had established stores in smaller villages that had been knocked down or razed, forced into a nomadic lifestyle, selling their wares on the go.

Konan felt a small sense of kinship with these merchants, so if she did need any gear, she’d often buy from them. Today, however, all she _needed_ was some coffee. Her favourite place was _Mama Katsu’s_ , a small café that was only two blocks from Ichiraku – she’d still be able to meet her friends in plenty of time. (Besides, with Kakashi in the mix, you could never be too late.)

A bell chimed as Konan entered the paisley blue cafe. She immediately spotted Cherry, the financially savvy owner, behind the counter. Cherry looked up, offered Konan a warm smile and went back to serving the man in front of her. The only thing Cherry appreciated more than a penny saved was regular customers.

“What can I get for you, sir?” She asked the young man.

Konan lined up, eyes skimming the blackboard overhead that displayed the menu. She frowned. Should she get a brownie too? She had quite the sweet tooth…

“Uh…” The customer ahead of her seemed equally indecisive. “Um – ‘Konoha’s fantastic fruit smoothie’ should be fine.”

“Oh. Great!” Cherry looked pleasantly surprised.

Konan sighed internally. “He doesn’t mean that,” she quickly cut in, scooting around the stranger and offering him a sheepish look. “He wants an iced coffee, like me. The usual.” That meant with a shot of salted caramel. “Oh, and three brownies to go too, please.” 

Cherry looked torn between amusement and frustration. “Fine!” She threw up her hands. “But if you don’t stop taking pity on these tourists, I’ll never sell that disgusting fruit smoothie! The syrup will expire next month, Konan, and then it’ll be a total waste of money.” Glowering, she went off to gather their order. Konan placed some cash on the counter, making sure her tip was extra generous.

Her acquaintance made a weird noise.

“Excuse me?” Konan looked at him, smiling politely. He appeared to be about her age. “Didn’t quite catch that.”

“I – you – ” He was looking at her a little weirdly. Maybe he was one of those toxic male types that didn’t like his authority challenged, but he looked more shocked than anything to Konan.

“Sorry about that,” Konan said in a low voice, pulling him a bit away from the counter and glancing back to make sure Cherry was out of earshot. “But I’m pretty sure the fruit syrup they put in that smoothie _already_ expired months ago. This place is good, honest, but that’s literally the one thing any villager worth their tongue knows not to order.”

“N-no – that’s fine. I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, a little flustered. “Hey, wait. Did you pay for me? I can reimburse you - ”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s hard visiting a new village.” 

“Ready!” Cherry called, placing two drinks and a brown paper bag filled with chocolatey goodness on the counter.

“You’re an angel!” Konan flashed her a brilliant grin. “Thanks, Cherry.” She quickly grabbed her order, briefly nodding at the young man as she moved past him. “Enjoy your time in Konoha.”

He tilted his head. “Thanks, I will. By the way –” Konan paused, almost out the door. She half turned her head towards him, raising an eyebrow enquiringly. “– Looks good.” He tapped his chin, and she realised he must’ve been staring at her piercing earlier.

Konan considered him briefly before responding. “Right back ’atcha.” She tugged her ear; she hadn’t missed his small piercings either. They were a dark silver and looked metallic.

His cheeks turned a little pink and Konan chuckled, heading out. Sometimes it was too easy.

**

“I heard we’re going to be working together,” Kakashi said around a mouthful of brownie. Konan, Guy and Kakashi were seated at Ichiraku’s, three empty ramen bowels in front of them.

Guy’s eyes widened. “We are?” He gasped. “My prayers have been answered!” A bit of brownie fell from his mouth.

Kakashi snorted. “Not _you_.” His eyes flicked to Konan. “I’m talking about the potential new ANBU member to your left.”

Konan raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

“That is even more exciting!” Guy’s eyes were practically shining. “Konan, you must undoubtedly be going on an infamous ANBU test mission… An S rank mission in which the potential recruit leads a team of three through gruelling challenges, with the pressure of not only fulfilling your duty for the village hanging over your head, but also your one and only chance at becoming an ANBU member - all these boons hinging upon your success. All the while, your every move is analysed by a current ANBU member of good standing who accompanies you on the mission…”

Kakashi snorted. “Who says _boons_ anymore?”

“Gee, Guy.” Konan frowned. “That sounds…”

“Wonderful!”

“I was going to pick a different word.”

Guy laughed. “Konan, there is no greater test of strength! It’s the ultimate challenge.”

Konan huffed. “So _you’re_ my babysitter then, Kakashi?” Kakashi had been an ANBU member for the past few months. She scrutinised the young, currently un-masked boy, as he finished the rest of his brownie. “Surely it hasn’t escaped the notice of ANBU that we’re all close friends?”

Kakashi shrugged. “I can be professional.”

Literal tears started streaming down Guy’s face. “My youthful friends, I am so jealous of the painful journey ahead of you!”

Konan lightly smacked him on the head. “Guy, you’re six months younger than me!”

“The Fourth’ll probably tell you about it formally later today,” Kakashi added, smirking at the two of them. He pulled his mask back up, covering his pretty face. “We’re meeting up in the afternoon.”

“We? You and me?”

“And the other two members,” Guy guessed. Kakashi nodded.

“Who are they?” Konan enquired.

Kakashi shrugged. “I haven’t been formally briefed either. This is just what I’ve gathered from the ANBU rumour mill.”

Konan’s eyes widened. “There’s an ANBU rumour mill?”

Kakashi waved her aside. “You have much to learn, young one.”

“Your birthday month is the same as Guy’s!” Konan rolled her eyes. Internally, she wasn’t sure how she felt. Happy, yes. And proud - making ANBU wasn’t easy. If she was accepted, she’d be challenged thoroughly, undoubtedly growing in strength. Kakashi himself had improved tremendously since joining. Being sharply trained was definitely a step towards her overall goal. But, still…

_Do I have the stomach for it?_

As Guy excused himself to order some celebratory drinks, Kakashi leaned over and gave Konan’s shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Don’t worry - if you do decide to join ANBU, I’ll have your back.” She couldn’t see it with his mask back in place, but his one visible eye was crinkled in a way that told her he was smiling.

Not for the first time, she marvelled at how much he had changed since Obito’s death. The Kakashi that had been in her classes back at the Academy wouldn’t have deigned to put friendship above the strict policies of the village.

Konan returned his smile. “Cheers, ’Kashi.”

“Friends!” Guy returned with three sake glasses. “I know it’s still morning, but we’ve heard some wonderful news. And it’s not every day that all three of us are here together.” He beamed. “Let us toast to us - the youthful prodigal three!”

“Prodigal three?” Kakashi questioned.

“Yes.” Guy looked thrilled at being asked to explain. “You, the prodigal student of the Fourth, who in turn was trained by the honourable Jariyah.” He pointed at Konan. “Lovely Konan, trained by the deadly Anko-sensei, one of the only shinobi deemed worthy of Orochimaru’s tutelage.” Guy puffed out his chest. “And _I,_ a student of Dan-sensei and great admirer of Tsuande’s tremendous strength!”

Konan and Kakashi exchanged looks. “Uh, not to burst your bubble,” Kakashi pointed out, “But doesn’t that make us the prodigal-three once removed or something?”

“Calling ourselves prodigal seems a bit arrogant, doesn’t it?” Konan added.

Guy considered their words. “Aspiring prodigal three?” He suggested.

Konan and Kakashi agreed, knowing this was as good a deal as they were likely to get.

“To us, passionate ninja who hope to one day be as great as the legendary Sanin of Konoha,” Guy toasted, raising his glass. The other two mimicked him.

“Che - ”

“ - _And may the fountain of youth bubble forever in our aspiring hearts_ ,” Guy added quickly, clinking his glass with that of his friends’. “Cheers, friends!” He downed his drink, looking at the other two expectantly.

“To the fountain of youth,” Konan and Kakashi echoed in flat voices, glaring at Guy and downing their own drinks with significantly less gusto.


	4. THREE

T H R E E

**M I S T R U S T**

IF Danzo was being honest, he was over Minato’s bullshit. The newest and youngest Hokage was popular with the villagers, Fire Lords and Jonin Council alike. And even Danzo could admit, the man had his talents. But the naïve, peace seeking rubbish he spouted made Danzo’s icy blood boil.

Danzo closed his eyes, contemplating… Of course, Sarutobi was around too. His personality was similar to Minato’s, but the man was milder and already too old to be of much concern. In Danzo’s eyes, there was only one real contender who held the title Hokage. For now.

“Lord Danzo.”

Danzo opened his eyes as one of the ANBU – Jai, a Foundation member – appeared before him, kneeling respectfully. Jai’s face was covered by the standard animalistic mask – his resembling a bear.

“What is it?”

“Lord Fourth… has approved the mission.”

Danzo almost smiled. “Good. Dismissed.”

The agent vanished wordlessly.

Danzo slowly stood up from the chair he’d been resting in. He moved to an open window, watching the day unfold below him. His office was housed in a tall building, located in the centre of Konoha; it made for an excellent view. Villagers and shinobi alike rushed about, minds on their daily tasks. They certainly didn’t realise that Danzo was watching… that he never really _stopped_ watching…

His sharp eyes picked out a flash of blue hair, decorated with an origami flower. He narrowed his eyes. A valuable player, one he could see fitting into his plans very easily… The only question was, would she pass his little test?

Yes, Danzo was always watching – more closely than even Minato could have realised. And what those that secretly brandished him as overly ambitious failed to realise was that every single move he made was coldly calculated.

 _Another piece in position_ , he thought dryly as young Konan made her way to Hokage tower… 

**

“Ahh, Konan, Kakashi.” Minato looked up from piles of paperwork as the shinobi entered his office. “Good afternoon.”

“Minato-sensei.” Kakashi inclined his head. Konan followed suit, giving her Hokage a hesitant smile. 

He’d been elected fairly recently, and of all the candidates, Konan was glad he’d gotten the role. Wartime hardly bred trust, and when she’d first arrived in the village, many of the village elders had been disdainful towards her. Konan had never really understood why – she figured it must’ve had something to do with her origin; she was yet another homeless orphan from a no-name village that hadn’t ever produced any shinobi. The sour feelings of an influential few had slowly spread, bleeding into their neighbours, friends and children – even tainting the attitudes of some of her Academy classmates and tutors. Minato, however, had never treated her coldly. Not even when, at fourteen years of age, she’d been sparring with Kakashi, tried out a fire style jutsu, missed badly and left Minato without eyebrows for two weeks (Kushina had taken to drawing them in until they finally grew back, cheekily giving him a different expression every day).

“Let’s get right to it, shall we? I’ve called you in for a mission. But, knowing you two…” Minato assessed them carefully. “How much have you pieced together already?”

Konan shrugged. “Guy was talking about some ANBU test mission…?”

Minato nodded. “The higher ups that be… have deemed it necessary to recruit new ANBU members.” He didn’t sound very happy about it. “Konan, you’re a splendid ninja – that hasn’t gone unnoticed.” He met her gaze. “You’re reliable and hardworking and have successfully led your past teams through some precarious missions. If you would like to join the ANBU, I’m officially extending a provisional offer.”

Kakashi looked at her curiously, probably wondering what her final decision would be. Konan, for her part, had thought about this all morning. She didn’t hesitate. “I accept.”

Minato smiled a little sadly, looking as if he’d expected such a response. “Then I have a mission here for you both. Konan, you’ll be leader. I don’t think I need to emphasise just how important succeeding will be for your career.” He held out a file towards her. “The ANBU, above all, value _results_.” Konan nodded. But when she tried to take the file from him, he held on firmly, refusing to release. “As your Hokage,” he added in a low voice, “I have different priorities.” He exchanged a stern look with her, then Kakashi. “I implore you to return with your entire team intact.”

Konan finally pulled the papers towards her and a second later Minato’s words made a lot more sense.

 _Well, well, well_ , she thought, eyes skimming over the brief. _This certainly isn’t a walk in the park._ She was well aware that both men were watching her. Kakashi claimed he didn’t know about the mission, but he wasn’t lying when he had told Guy he could be professional. When exactly did the ANBU evaluation begin? Was her reaction something that mattered?

Keeping her face impassive, Konan raised her eyebrows. “Do you have so little faith in me, to think I can’t do both?”

Minato shrugged. “Put it this way, I’m not even sure if _I_ could pull this off.” Konan frowned. That was a lie – Minato was a genius. “Prioritising is a skill too, Konan. Besides,” he chuckled, looking a little sheepish, “I suppose I have a vested interest in your wellbeing. Kushina and I fully intend to use you both as babysitters once little Naruto is born.”

**

"This is weird," Kakashi murmured, as he and Konan made their way towards the training grounds. He was flicking through the file with great interest. "And _that_ guy – I get that they need to test him out too, but to include him on a mission such as this?"

Konan glanced down. The young man she'd seen in _Mama Katsu's_ that morning stared back at her, grinning from his passport sized ID photo. Tan skin, fiery hair, determined eyes. "From Rain, no less," she murmured thoughtfully.

"Even if he was taught by Jariyah," Kakashi said. "Can we really trust him? In a time such as this, wanting to defect to Konoha is awfully suspicious. The Jonin Council have been assuring us the tides of this war will soon turn decisively in our favour…"

Yes, that had been the word on the street. But no one except the Hokage, village elders and head of security, a stern man named Danzo, really knew where this newfound confidence was stemming from.

"Well, he passed Inoichi's inspection." Konan shrugged. "And Ibiki's interrogation." They both shuddered.

"Yeah, but still…"

"I'm not saying I trust him either, but I'm not surprised by the decision to involve him in our military. Despite what the other lands believe, this village is short of manpower," Konan reasoned. "He feels a sense of kinship with Jariyah-sensei, and Rain is a pretty bloody place to be right now. Defecting isn't _that_ absurd an idea. Besides…" She sighed. The more she thought about the Hokage's words, the less appealing this mission was becoming. "A dangerous mission such as this. Minato-sensei was right – it will probably require sacrifices to be successful. Or, at the very least, _one_ sacrifice…"

Kakashi's eye widened as he connected the last dot. "When Minato-sensei said our entire team was to return intact…"

"I'm guessing certain members will need to take greater risk than others to pull this S rank off," Konan said grimly.

" _Shit_." Kakashi whistled, low and flat.

"Yet if Lord Fourth _didn't_ want us to use him as a scapegoat," Konan began.

"Why even roster him on?" Kakashi summed up. "Think about it. Because you're right. It's not like Minato-sensei at all."

Konan grunted, her thoughts jumping to the same place as his; there were only five people in Konoha who had the right to influence mission rosters – the same five that were privy to all the village's secrets – the two Hokage, the two village elders and Danzo (of which the latter three were infamously ruthless).

Konan pursed her lips. The thought of using a foreign shinobi as a sacrificial pawn bothered her. But the mission's hidden message was as clear as, and so at odds with, the brilliant sunshine bathing them. "Tell me something, Kakashi. Is this the worst thing you've seen a shinobi being asked to do?" _Is this as grey as it gets?_ After all, he'd been associated with ANBU much longer than she had.

"Honestly? No," Kakashi said quietly. Then, after a minute, "Still think you can do both?"

Succeed at the mission and keep the entire team safe. When she thought over the mission objectives, it certainly didn't seem likely…

Konan stopped abruptly, causing Kakashi to slow his steps and turn his head back. His gaze was questioning. No doubt this would be bringing up all sorts of memories for him. Konan tilted her head, pouring confidence she didn't have into her answer. "You can bet on it."

 _Oh?_ A cynical voice inside her piped up. Y _et if push came to shove, do you_ really _know what would you do?_

She glanced behind Kakashi, her eyes roving training field two – the un-official meeting place for newly formed teams. She could make out two figures gathered under the shade of some birch trees. Gritting her teeth, Konan forcefully pushed her doubt away and pointed. "Now let's meet the rest of the team."

**

As Konan and Kakashi neared the duo resting in the shade of the second training field, the two young men looked up.

One of them was the _Mama Katsu’s_ noob, the controversial Rain shinobi – although, Konan mused, she supposed he was technically a Konoha shinobi now. He was sitting on the ground, one hand casually resting across his bent knees. He surely had to be feeling uncomfortable – at best he was an unlucky orphan fleeing to a foreign land, seeking safety and being put through the paces, and at worst a spy of some sort – yet he looked completely at ease. He stood as they approached, his eyes snapping to Konan in a way she found mildly disconcerting.

The final member of their team was Tekka Uchiha. Konan had been his junior by one year back in her Academy days and knew for a fact that his dark hair, dark eyes and polite demeanour were deceptively mild. He could get fired up in an instant – his merciless eyes flicking to life at the drop of a pin.

Today, it seemed he was already halfway there – the nineteen-year-old Uchiha was glowering, arms crossed, shoulders tight and tense.

“Yo.” Kakashi gave them a slow wave. “Kakashi Hatake, at your service.” The introduction was wasted on everyone except the new recruit.

“Yahiko,” he held out his hand, shaking Kakashi’s, then turning towards Konan.

She stepped forward. “I’m Konan,” she said, again purely for his benefit. “I’m the acting leader for this mission.” Yahiko’s grip was surprisingly gentle. “I take it you’ve already become acquainted with Tekka, here?”

“He has,” Tekka replied. His eyes flicked restlessly between the other three shinobi, making Konan’s trepidation grow. “Forgive me, Konan. I mean no disrespect, but…”

 _Here it comes_ , thought Konan tiredly. The Uchiha were a traditional bunch, their beliefs often strict and heavy handed. She’d been expecting Tekka to voice some concern about Yahiko, but she hadn’t expected to have to defend him so soon. 

Konan knew all successful missions stemmed from a strong foundation of teamwork – but it was hard to keep a team together when she didn’t really know much about some of the members.

“I had no clue _he’d_ be on this mission too!” To her surprise, Tekka pointed accusingly at Kakashi, the contempt clear on his face. “I vote we kick him off.”

**

Kakashi, for his part, merely blinked.

“Kakashi?” Konan looked between the two of them. “Well, hell is more likely to freeze over before he’s ever on time these days, but let’s not be _too_ hasty.” To the untrained eye, she appeared unconcerned by Tekka’s words. But Kakashi had known her since his own Academy days. She was pissed off.

“He – ” Tekka began, but Konan immediately cut him off.

“Let me stop you right there. Undermining your teammate is serious business. You better have a good reason for saying that, one that’s based on more than just uncontrolled testosterone...” She deftly removed two kunai knives and started twirling them in her hand. Some shinobi still looked awkward with shuriken and kunai, even as Chunin – they had never learned to properly hold the weapons, let alone handle them efficiently enough to deal significant damage. Konan was _not_ one of those shinobi – she handled blades as if born to do so, the dark metal flashing threateningly between her nimble fingers. “So?” She said, her voice deceptively lazy. “Do you actually have a good reason, Tekka, hmm?”

Underneath his mask, Kakashi’s lips twitched. You could really see where Anko had rubbed off on her.

Tekka opened his mouth, then closed it. Kakashi could practically see Tekka’s mind working desperately to come up with any legitimate reason to throw him off the mission– _but you can’t, can you?_ Tekka’s cheeks became flushed, his frustration growing. Kakashi knew exactly what Tekka’s problem was – and he’d be a liar if he said a part of him wasn’t dreading what the Uchiha was about to dredge up.

When Tekka spoke next, his eyes were red, the Sharingan quick to answer his fury. Quicker than Kakashi’s was at this point, anyway.

“That – that - that butt-faced miscreant – he has no right to the Sharingan!” Tekka all but spat. “My _clan’s_ Sharingan! _Obito’s_ – ” He choked off abruptly, clenching his fists, looking away. Then he was glaring at Kakashi again, pointing for good measure. “I don’t care that it happened two years ago. It shouldn’t have happened _at all_. And you certainly don’t deserve his gifts when _you couldn’t even save him!_ ”

For a man perpetually haunted by his biggest mistake, Kakashi was surprised at how much the mention of Obito still stung. “And you don’t think I’m aware of all this?” He said quietly.

Tekka narrowed his eyes. “No, I don’t,” he said, his anger cooling to give way to something darker. “Because if you truly were aware, you’d do the honourable thing and just – ”

“And _that_ ,” said Konan, her tone sharper than either of the kunai dancing in her hands, “is enough.” She flicked her fingers; Kakashi found himself moving aside and wrapping his hand around the handle of a kunai knife – Tekka, less prepared, dodged his more clumsily, tumbling to the ground with the blade lodging itself firmly in the grass, mere inches from his crotch. “Obito was a great ninja.” Konan’s hazel eyes flitted to Kakashi, strands of her hair wafting in the breeze. “The Fourth himself declared that his death was not the result of any individual, rather our country’s current situation. Besides,” she turned towards Tekka, frowning. “Obito’s dying wishes were clear. We all know that families don’t always know what’s best for an individual.” Tekka’s face flushed a darker shade of crimson. Kakashi had heard too, about Tekka’s recent revelations… “This mission,” Konan added, more loudly, “is not about airing out past grievances.”

“But this is about honour – ” Tekka protested.

“Did I say I was finished speaking?” Konan asked frostily. “That was a rhetorical question, Tekka, the answer is clearly _no_. I’m going to give you one chance. You and Kakashi will spar, the aim being to take those particular kunai from one another.” Kakashi glanced down; the knife she’d thrown at him had a blue string attached to it, tied in a measly bow at the point where base met blade. “You get his, he goes. He gets yours; he remains with this team and you stop being a massive dick.”

“Stop… being a _dick_?”Tekka spluttered, mouth dropping open. Kakashi himself had never heard the elite Uchiha swear a day in his life, so he wasn’t surprised that Tekka was appalled at Konan’s language, mild though it may have been. Tekka frowned. “What, for ever?”

Konan’s mouth twitched. “That would be nice, now wouldn’t it? But, as a bare minimum, if Kakashi wins, I expect you to behave courteously towards your teammates for the duration of this mission.”

“Fine! It’s not like he stands a chance. But, really Konan, why even bother with this?” Tekka pouted, even as he got up and picked up his own kunai, decorated with a green bow. “I’m not going to hold back; he’s just going to get badly injured.”

“We’ll just see who injuries who,” Kakashi murmured, flexing his shoulders, readying himself.

Konan rolled her eyes. “We all need to get an idea of everyone’s strengths and weaknesses. It’ll help us work more efficiently on the mission. Speaking of which, you and I will go next.” Her eyes rested on Yahiko, who had been watching the whole scene unfold with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Yahiko blinked. He met Konan’s gaze, arching an eyebrow.

“Alright,” he said, looking a little amused. 

Konan narrowed her eyes, but didn’t press him. “Begin,” she said quietly, moving back.

“What?” Tekka frowned.

“She means us,” Kakashi explained, throwing a few shuriken at his easily distracted opponent. Tekka growled and dove into action – but Kakashi was ready for it, already pulling up his headband.

Konan hadn't been lying – she did want to evaluate everyone's skills. But she was also giving Tekka and Kakashi the opportunity to talk with their fists now rather than in the middle of their sensitive mission. Kakashi knew Tekka would go all out, even for a simple capture-the-kunai game such as this. He figured he might as well meet Konan halfway and really fire Tekka up, to truly clear the air.

 _Let it all out, big guy_ , he thought grimly. With both eyes, and his illegitimate Sharingan, fully exposed, Kakashi charged at the Uchiha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full discloser: I've played with the time line and made everyone a little older (sometimes a lot older) in regards to canon events. But I have tried to keep the order of the events the same (more or less).


	5. FOUR

F O U R

**W I N N E R S A N D L O S E R S**

THEY had been seven when they had met.

Yahiko’s parents had wanted him home that day, to help with chopping up some firewood for the coming winter, and if he’d listened to them, he would’ve been dead too. But he’d been desperate to go to the neighbouring town – a good five-hour trek, both ways – to get a special type of fish. Aymodoki – it was a rare species found in but a few villages in their land. Also known as the Kissing Loach, it sounded pretty lame to Yahiko, but his grandmother absolutely adored Aymodoki. Apparently, when they’d been younger, his grandfather had gifted her one.

Yahiko figured it would be a good anniversary present, so when his parents sent him off to the forest at the edge of town, instead of stopping to collect wood and haul it back home, Yahiko had just kept going. The trek had been tough because he’d only been given enough food for a light snack, but Yahiko had been determined.

The fish keeper in the next village over had been mighty impressed with his tale too – even deigning to give him two fish for the price of one. “It’s your luck day! Now you better hurry, lad.” The old merchant had looked up at the waning sun. “You’ll want to be home before dark.”

It was with a light heart that Yahiko had begun the journey back, but even before he’d reached his village, he’d known something was wrong. There was smoke – _way_ too much smoke – painting the sky. His gut told him to slow down. Coughing, Yahiko decided to leave the ease of the straight (and very much exposed) road and take the longer route through the forest. It was a convoluted path – only those born and bred in the small village of Iki could hope to navigate it’s twists and turns.

He didn’t encounter anyone the entire way back – not even one wild animal. He didn’t even detect the sounds of chirping birds. So, it was with a growing feeling of dread that he finally laid his eyes on his village… or what remained of it.

“ _No_.” The word was torn from his mouth on a soft breath and snatched away by the northward wind. _No_. No. No! NO. _NONONONO –_

“Gramps! Grams!” Suddenly Yahiko didn’t care who heard him, all he cared about was finding his family. He ran down the village streets, heading for his house. “Mother! Father!” A sob escaped him. He dropped the plastic packet that housed the Aymodoki. He kept running. “Hello?!” Tears were falling. He stumbled over things he didn’t care to examine more closely… “Anyone?!”

No one answered him. The town was scorched and only the bones of it’s buildings and people remained, buried under a heavy blanket of ash.

_What had happened?_

He fell to his knees, sobbing.

It was only when the sun had fully set that he stood up, a strange mixture of angry and hopeless. He felt as lifeless as the ashes.

 _Fish,_ he thought belatedly. _I’ve got to get the fish._ Then he had to get out of there. Most of the noxious smoke was being blown north, away from him. As night came on, the winds might become unpredictable.

“Fish,” he mumbled, his voice sounding hoarse.

It’s what his grandparents would probably want. For him to survive, even if Yahiko himself didn’t care at that moment what happened next.

He stood up. He knew this town like the back of his hand, but suddenly he couldn’t remember where he’d dropped the fish or how to get there. He started combing the streets, trying to gather his bearings, when he paused.

He could hear… a wailing noise? It sounded like a cat, but…

Yahiko hesitated, then gritted his teeth.

It was either an animal or maybe some enemy ninja – either way, he wasn’t running away. His feet carried him _towards_ the sound – and he was now so angry he was almost hoping it was the latter.

The sound appeared to be coming from the charred remnants of what was probably once a residential home (much like his own). Not from, _nearby_ , Yahiko corrected himself. Hidden to the left of what remained of the house’s foundation, was a very small door.

Yahiko kneeled, frowning. A cellar.

There was thumping and wailing – either this was one giant cat or…

Realisation hit him. “Hang on,” Yahiko said. “You won’t be trapped for much longer! I’m opening it.” Yahiko couldn’t see a lock, so figured it would be easy enough.

“It’s stuck!” Came the muffled response.

“I’m really strong,” Yahiko assured the villager, and started prying the doors open. Damn. It was jammed. “You push from the inside!” he instructed, pulling with all his might.

He could hear some grunts of effort from the other side. “More – force,” he panted, digging deep for strength he desperately hoped he had.

“I’m – trying – ”

Despite everything, Yahiko almost smiled. The voice sounded irritated rather than frightened. “Try – harder,” Yahiko said.

“I’m going to do a running start,” the voice suddenly decided.

“Wait, _what_?”

“You pull at the same time. On my count, alright – one – two – _three_ – ”

“Whoa!”

The cellar’s doors flew open, Yahiko clearly heard a high-pitched squeal and saw a flash of grey-blue, before, carried by what he could only assume was considerable momentum, the creature landed on top of him, knocking the air from his lungs.

Yahiko was in a world of pain. “Ughh,” he groaned.

“S-sorry,” she panted. The _girl_ on top of him leaned back up, so that she was now sitting on him. Her hazel eyes were wide, taking in the view. “Oh,” she said, as she saw what had become of her home, the sound impossibly small and delicate.

Yahiko still couldn’t breathe, and was pretty sure he was half delirious, but his first thought was that she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. If he hadn’t gone through what he had today, his heart might’ve started beating faster. But his priorities had been permanently re-arranged and even her beauty wasn’t worth suffocating to death. He couldn’t reach her shoulder, so tapped her stomach to get her attention.

She yelped softly, startling and clambering off him. He could finally gulp down air. “So sorry! I’m Konan, by the way.” And even though she was in the exact same boat as him, she was actually able to dredge up a shy smile. _She’s brave_ , Yahiko realised. “What’s your name?”

“Yahiko.” 

“Huh. I think I’ve seen you around the village before.” She shrugged and offered him her hand. “Thanks for helping me.”

Yahiko looked at her kind face and outstretched hand and suddenly, he just knew. The two of them would survive. He’d make sure of it. 

Yahiko took Konan’s hand and let the girl who would become his first proper best friend pull him up. 

He could never have imagined that eleven years later he would face that same girl in battle, in a foreign village that she’d claim was her only home.

 _Yeah,_ Yahiko thought darkly, his mind flitting back to the present. Kakashi and Tekka were still fighting, but he could sense the end of their physical therapy session was imminent. _And who’s fault is that?_

As Kakashi struck the winning blow, Yahiko wondered, not for the first time, if maybe Nagato hadn’t been right after all…

Once his closest and only friend, Konan would now be his toughest opponent.

**

Kakashi and Tekka’s fight had ended as Konan had expected; with the late White Fang’s son emerging victorious. Not without, Konan noted uneasily, significant injuries.

The two boys had been vicious – all of Tekka’s pent up anger unleashed at an exasperated Kakashi. In the end, Kakashi had pit his Sharingan against Tekka’s in an attempt to distract him long enough to send in a clone to snatch the kunai. It had worked, but only because Tekka had _let it_. For all his pompousness, the Uchiha _was_ skilled. At the cost of the match, he chose to focus his attention entirely on his Sharingan. Tekka’s visual jutsu overpowered the real Kakashi; a sharp sound of pain escaped the white haired nin. He fell to the ground, groaning, even as his clone successfully lifted Tekka’s kunai, green string fluttering limply in the breeze.

Konan frowned. This was why Genjutsu was such a headache; being an ocular illusion, she had no idea what Tekka was doing. But she did know this match had officially gone on long enough.

“Winner!” Konan said sharply, indicating Kakashi. His clone dropped the second kunai beside the real version of himself, which lay sprawled ungracefully on the grass. Two of her own paper clones manifested into reality; one putting a forceful hand on Tekka’s shoulder, the other releasing Kakashi from Genjutsu.

Tekka hadn’t escaped the battle scratch free either; he was panting heavily, decorated in cuts and scrapes, his right arm pink and shiny from Kakashi’s fire jutsu and his left leg cyanotic from the copy-nin’s ice-style…

Tekka didn’t even have the energy to protest, he merely grunted and collapsed onto his knees. “Fine,” he said grudgingly. “Technically, he wins.”

Kakashi was now leaning heavily on both his own and her clones for support, one arm slung around each concentration of chakra, the two kunai lying innocently at his feet. “ _Technically_ is good enough for me,” he panted.

“Well, I was hoping that you’d both watch this next fight – but I’d be lying if I said you didn’t look like discount versions of your usual selves,” Konan admitted. “My clones will try heal you up.” Though she hadn’t _officially_ been Konan’s sensei, Tsunade had taught her well. The Sanin had lobbied for a medical ninja on every team, but she’d told Konan that, in reality, they needed to do more – _every_ ninja ought to learn basic medical ninjutsu. “If they’re concerned, they’ll take you to the hospital.”

Her clones immediately acted on her orders, moving the boys off to the side of the training field, out of the way of any harm.

Yahiko ran a hand through his sunset-coloured hair, nodding approvingly at her. “Smart move – getting those two to spar it out.”

Konan frowned. Maybe, but that didn’t stop the small stabs of guilt she felt every time she glanced at her battered teammates. Truthfully, it had been a while since she’d led a mission, and even then she’d never been in charge of an S rank before. She’d forgotten how responsibility came with cost, even in the small decisions.

But hopefully, Tekka would calm himself now, and at least she’d seen for herself that Kakashi’s and Tekka’s skills were up to scratch.

Konan shrugged. “Yeah, well, our turn next.” She moved to pick up the two kunai Kakashi had collected, tossing the one with the blue bow towards Yahiko. He caught it easily. Konan readied her stance, a silent question in her eyes. He understood immediately.

Yahiko nodded once, motioning with the fingers of his right hand, the universal sign for _bring it._ The kunai that was her target was held loosely in his left. “Give me your best shot.” 

Instead of rushing forwards, Konan paused. Every match had a unique energy to it, and she’d long ago realised that if you took some time to be mindful of it, it could provide clues about your opponent and the difficulty of the fight itself. Konan’s gut detected a faint undercurrent of anticipation between them; she supposed she could acknowledge that she was curious. How talented must this Rain shinobi be to have been rostered onto a mission such as this?

_Time to find out._

Konan flicked her wrist and her kunai disappeared. She made some hand signs and dashed forward, adeptly dodging some shuriken and a water-style blast, and threw a wicked right hook. He blocked it with his own right hand, as she’d expected. What she hadn’t expected was that he would try and use the valuable kunai is his left hand to attack her; she blocked it with her own left hand, using her remaining shuriken. 

They were interlocked, barely a few inches between them.

“Here’s a tip,” she said. His eyes were focused on her, trying to gauge her next move. “Using a valuable item in attack is a sure-fire way to _lose_ said valuable item.”

She twisted her left wrist, simultaneously applying pressure downwards from their interlocked right hands, targeting Yahiko’s left wrist. His left hand gave way, fingers spasming to release his precious kunai, which twirled up into the air.

 _Mine,_ thought Konan, and wasn’t worried even when his ankle brought her legs down from under her. She merely used his move to her advantage, grabbing firmly onto his hands and focusing her chakra on the dorsal side of her body; momentum, gravity and chakra worked together to increase her weight and drag him down too.

He landed ungracefully on top of her, with enough force to unceremoniously shove the air from her lungs… Or at least, he would have if she were real.

As her paper clone crumbled into a heap of origami sheets with a disgruntled Yahiko lying on top, the _real_ Konan, the one that (in spite of some malicious rumours) wasn’t merely paper animated into life, grabbed the kunai with the blue bow before it even hit the ground.

She grinned. “Gotcha.”

Yahiko groaned, slowly sitting up. He raised his hand. “I have a question.”

Konan wondered whether he was going to try arguing his way out of the loss. “The time for questions was before we begun,” she pointed out, finally bringing out her own kunai wrapped in green. She’d won, which wasn’t really a shock, but she hadn’t expected him to go down so easily… _He doesn’t seem to be much of a tactician_.

“My question is simple, though. And very relevant.”

She glanced down at Yahiko. “What is it, then?”

His eyes seemed to be laughing at her. “Kakashi won and got to stay on the team. That was his prize. What do _I_ get when I win?”

Konan narrowed her eyes. _You haven’t won,_ she was about to say. But then she realised his kunai was becoming uncomfortably warm in her hand – and the realisation struck her a moment before the flash-bomb he’d disguised as the kunai did.

**

Yahiko was prepared, lunging for her in one sure strike. For a brief moment, Konan was confused, her guard completely lowered, and that was all he needed. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she, by habit rather than forethought, always created a quick substitution before any fight, he _definitely_ would have won then and there.

As it was, her fail safe found an unexpected use and he came into contact with a log; Konan materialised a few metres away, more shaken than she’d have cared to admit. The words of her earlier thoughts sure had a bitter aftertaste. Clearly, he’d used a transformation jutsu to disguise a flash bomb as the blue kunai. Not only did that require planning and subtlety, but the technique itself demanded nothing short of precise chakra control.

As the blinding light began to fade, she could see blurry spots and a grinning Yahiko. _He doesn’t seem phased by my substitution at all_ , she realised. _Also, he has dimples._ “I work better with some motivation,” he added cheekily.

Konan made a frustrated sound. He’d surprised (and maybe impressed) her a little with that lateral thinking – clearly, he’d used the time during which Kakashi and Tekka were fighting to do more than just sit and watch the match idly – but she wasn’t about to let him know that. “You’re not going to have another chance to put even a scratch on me,” she assured him.

“Wouldn’t want to, even if I could, leader,” Yahiko replied. “But since you seem so confident, how about this. If I somehow surpass all the odds and win, _you_ owe me one favour.”

Konan looked at him suspiciously. “What kind of favour?”

“Well, if the match keeps progressing at this rate,” Yahiko laughed. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“You arrogant little – ” Konan made her hands weave the appropriate signs and watched his eyes widen as another paper clone appeared, this one with wings. She threw her green bow bearing kunai at the clone, who presumed to ascend into the air.

The clone hovered several meters above them all, her wings creating a breeze that reached them down on the training field.

Yahiko’s eyes were wide as he murmured something softly.

Konan glared at him, not catching a word of it. “Still feeling confident?”

This time Yahiko didn’t respond, just charged. Konan focused on him, barely countering his move in time. He was faster now, but adrenaline was finally pumping in her veins; so was she. They sparred for a few minutes, trading swings, blocks and hits. She quickly realised he was able to dodge her movements fairly well; she was connecting only half of the time. It started off a little annoying, quickly progressing to _substantially_ annoying when he actually evaded an unorthodox attack combo Konan had picked up in her childhood (one which often threw ninja for a loop) and knocked her backward several meters _without actually touching her._

“How the hell did he do that?” Konan murmured, trying to get back up. Her legs didn’t seem to want to co-operate.

Yahiko was already meters away, moving towards her clone, jumping onto nearby trees to gain height. Konan figured she should move her floating creation higher in the air, but didn’t really have the capability of mustering up the required _shit-tonne_ of chakra needed to do so in her disorientated state.

Besides, her impressive jutsu had a fail safe of it’s own.

Angelic Konan was flying high and no water or fire jutsu was about to bring her down. She was different from Konan’s usual paper clones. Konan had infused her own chakra into each small sheet of paper that she was composed of, making them resistant to multiple chakra natures.

The key was connectivity; each paper had its own chakra supply, and when they were connected, like an electrical circuit, her jutsu was nearly unbeatable.

Water could not break her circuit; it just made the sheets stick together, strengthening the connection. Fire burned rapidly through them, again enhancing the connection. If anything, those attacks merely strengthened her clones – if Yahiko went for a water style jutsu, she could use the chakra infused in his blast to make her clone retaliate.

The only thing that could really bring her creation down was something that would make the papers curl into themselves, as that often disrupted the chakra connection emanating between the sheets. The only person who’d ever managed to break her circuit was currently miles away from the village…

Yahiko weaved some signs, before bringing both index fingers to his lips. “Oil style; gasoline jett.”

 _Well_ , Konan thought. _Shit_.

She was finally on her feet, finally able to run – but she knew she would never be fast enough. He’d been trained by Jariyah, but for the Toad Sage to have taught him _that_ trick…

Konan groaned as oil coated the angel, helpless to do anything but watch as it’s wings ceased to flap and it’s constituent origami sheets separated and wilted. Her wide eyes fixated on her prized kunai, watching as it fell like a shooting star – right into the outstretched hands of one _very_ smug and _absolutely infuriating_ shinobi.


	6. Chapter 6

F I V E

**S E C R E T S**

Yahiko was sure she would punch him. God (if one even existed) knew he deserved it. In fact, seeing her here, like this, with all of _them,_ he kind of wanted to punch himself.

He shouldn’t have antagonised her – and he _really_ shouldn’t have hinted at his full set of skills – but he couldn’t help it. He’d wanted to prove, even if only to himself, that he did still know some things about his past friend. At this point, Konan had more inside jokes and history with _Tekka_ than him – and even though he’d told Nagato he wouldn’t be affected by her, the truth was that he’d never expected to see her, let alone be lumped onto her team. And, clearly, the _real_ truth was that he’d lied to Nagato – because he’d already compromised their plan with his silly spike of jealousy.

Yahiko took a deep breath. Take inventory, he reminded himself.

So he’d made a mistake – but only a small one. He’d learn from it; since he clearly couldn’t trust himself around her, he’d keep his distance and put as much space as he reasonably could between them.

Besides, clever as she was, there was no way she’d pick up on what his techniques really meant. Thankfully, the Sharingan users were truly out of commission after their sparring match and had missed most of it (and _of course_ Konoha would put _three_ fucking Sharingan’s on this team to keep an eye on him).

Konan eventually blew out a breath, her expression a mix between exasperated and frustrated; her blue eyebrows were knitted together, hazel eyes fixed onto him, lips twisted to the side. Her chin stud caught the light (and he still hadn’t really gotten over the shock of _that_ ). It only lasted a minute – but for a brief moment, she wasn’t the composed leader she had been up until this point.

Then that window into her soul slammed shut; her face became inscrutable once more. She was back to being the Konan he didn’t know from Adam. Yet her tone, when she spoke, held respect. “Not bad,” she said. Finally, she smiled. “Not bad at all.”

With a whip-like movement, she threw something at him – he started, instinctively catching it, his mind only realising a millisecond later that perhaps it would’ve been better to avoid whatever she’d thrown – when his fingers wrapped themselves around a soft cloth.

Yahiko glanced down, frowning. Recognition finally dawned. “This is…”

“A leaf headband. Standard shinobi wear.” Konan’s smiled evolved into something brighter, her hair and eyes dancing in the sunlight. “Welcome to the team.”

**

Konan found him stumbling aimlessly around the village later that evening. Unlike Kakashi and Tekka, who had both gone home to rest up for the start of their journey tomorrow, Konan and Yahiko had been drained, but not significantly injured, after their own match.

The effervescent setting sun stained the sky with pink, red and orange, the light of a drowsy day spilling through the streets of her village. Yahiko wore simple black clothes; pants, t-shirt, boots, with typical shinobi bandages wrapped around his wrists. Even so, he far from blended in; it wasn’t just the outrageous colour of his hair, it was the energy enveloping him. If Konan was certain of anything about the mysterious newbie, it was that Yahiko was no first-time fighter.

Not for the first time, she wondered what exactly had caused him to defect, what that final straw might’ve been – and _for_ the first time, her curiosity was borne of something more than the mere desire to ensure her village’s security.

Yahiko spotted her before she could decide whether or not she wanted to be seen. He offered her a polite smile, it’s distant cordiality different from the welcoming way in which he’d grinned at her earlier in the day.

She crossed her arms, moving towards him. “Everything all right?”

“Of course,” he replied. His earrings – as dark and nondescript as his clothing, caught her eye again. As did a lighter, brighter metal – a thin chain that wrapped it’s way around his neck and disappeared under his shirt. “Yourself?”

“Fine.” She paused, hesitating. He’d won earlier, but he’d never claimed his favour. Yet if he wasn’t going to bring it up, neither was she. And as the seconds stretched by, it became clear he _wasn’t_ going to bring it up. “Rest up,” she finally said, ignoring a small sense of disappointment. “We’ll be leaving at dawn tomorrow and travelling quickly. I’ll brief you all further on the mission as we move.” Konan bit her cheek, then added, “I assume you know it’s dangerous?”

“The mission or your company?” Yahiko joked, rubbing his wrist ruefully.

She looked at him sternly. “We might not all return. Are you really okay with that?”

For a moment, Yahiko looked like he might step a little closer. Yet when his feet finally did move, they carried him backwards, the space between them widening. He looked determined. “I’m more than happy to help the village that Master Jariyah hails from. Without him, I wouldn’t even be a ninja. I’m loyal to his cause.”

Konan figured this wasn't the whole story, but also figured that the whole story was undoubtedly very personal. For him to be standing before her, Ibiki and Inoichi must know it... _And is that not good enough?_ Konan asked herself. 

“You know, that old Pervy Sage might even back by the time we return,” Konan informed him. They were walking together now, towards the end of the street, enough space between them to fit in two more people.

“It’d be great to finally see him again,” Yahiko said earnestly, a touch of excitement in his voice.

Unbidden, an image popped into her head – a young Yahiko with a grumpy expression, dressed in Jariyah’s infamous toad onesie, as the Toad Sage harped on about the balance of life. Konan giggled despite herself. Yahiko raised an eyebrow. “Nothing.” She shook her head. “He’s quite the character.”

“There’s no one like him,” Yahiko agreed fondly.

Konan studied him a moment, then pointed at the local bar. It wasn’t a good one, but it was close. “How about a drink? Consider it a welcome to the team sort of thing.”

Yahiko looked wary. “Right before a mission?”

“Can’t hold down _one_ drink, big guy?” Konan teased, cheekily patting his abdomen as she moved past him, leading the way towards the establishment. She didn’t check to see if he was following.

**

Minato closed his eyes, momentarily centring himself.

The day had been nothing but a barrage of meetings, none really leading to anything substantial, but each one a political minefield none the less. Everyone – from the Elders to the Jonin Council to the dignitaries and Fire Lords – seemed to have separate agendas, none of them willing to compromise. The only point of agreement between the lot of them was that something strange was afoot; invariably, when this opinion was eventually voiced at each of the nine meetings he’d attended, the group would turn towards him, searching for an answer. Every time, he would simply glance back at them and sigh, because he certainly hadn’t figured it out. At least, not _yet_. 

He agreed that there had been something _off_ about the village these past few weeks, maybe even months. Only today did he realise that perhaps other villages within the Land of Fire were also experiencing subtle changes in the way they were governed and policies were made… Which meant whoever was pulling the strings was certainly looking at the bigger picture.

Now, alone in Hokage Tower (save for the ever-present eyes of his personal guard), Minato sighed deeply for the umpteenth time that day. They called him a genius, but he’d never really allowed himself to believe it, let alone revel in the title. It was a small step from admired to arrogant, and then from arrogant to arse.

On impulse, Minato grabbed a scroll, sketching out a crude schematic, outlining his village and surrounding territories, but writing no words. He kept the names of those that concerned him within his mind only; first on his mental list were the other Kage, power-hungry and brash as they were, with their rumblings of villages being overrun with ancient monsters. Closer to home, the names of people warranting his attention only grew; Danzo, the Elders, the Uchiha, the Jonin Council, Orochimaru, Anko – and of course, the Rain shinobi who’d washed his hands of his own village.

Minato hadn’t been inclined to grant him sanctuary in Konoha itself, but the boy had arrived with a letter from the Toad Sage, who’d been incognito for several weeks now. Minato had been equal parts confused, and happy, to finally hear word from his former sensei. The letter had unmistakably been from Jariyah, down to his secret seal. It had begged for the boy to be welcomed in Konoha – which, Minato had to admit, was a naïve sentiment from the get-go. Such naivety was usually unlike Jariyah, but it certainly seemed as though the Sanin was found of his former pupil.

Minato figured that once Jariyah found out what sort of mission Yahiko had been assigned to, he wouldn’t be amused. And he _would_ find out; that Sanin could sniff out any bit of information (when he wasn’t distracted by… other pursuits). Unfortunately, Danzo hadn’t given Minato much of a choice in the matter.

Overall, Yahiko seemed alright, and even though Minato had had his hesitancies in pairing the boy with Konan, he seemed to be keeping to his word and staying silent.

Still… there was something – or some _one_ – missing from his mental map… Some greater force at play, that Minato could only guess at.

Suffice to say, Minato was far from leaving the matter to rest.

**

Konan quickly scanned the menu and ordered two drinks. “Sit,” she motioned, signalling the seat opposite her. Yahiko looked around, hesitating. He'd followed her into the bar (a place called Shadow, horribly lit to match the theme). She’d immediately settled in a booth near the back, but Yahiko kept lingering a few steps behind.

“Relax, the place is cleaner than you’d think. Probably.”

Yahiko sighed, finally sitting down, continuing to scan the evening crowd; mainly men, mainly out for an after-work drink. Not too crowded, but certainly not empty.

“I’ve known Jariyah for years now,” Konan offered, once their drinks arrived. Yahiko paused mid-sip, before swallowing. If he wasn’t a fan of the concoction she’d ordered for him, he didn’t let on. “He always ordered that sake when he came here,” she confided, wrinkling her nose. It certainly wasn’t her drink of choice.

“How long since you’ve seen him, then?” Yahiko asked. At her look, he added, “You’re speaking with a decent amount of nostalgia.”

Konan smiled. “Oh, he’s been travelling around for a few months now. Gathering information, really.” She shrugged. “But I do miss him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Those books of his, huh,” Yahiko nodded sagely. “Eagerly awaiting a sequel?”

Konan knew he was teasing – still, she couldn’t help taking the bait. “No way!” She smacked his arm lightly. “No, it’s just… he was good with training. Always had a lot of jutsu up his sleeves.”

Yahiko made a noise of agreement, taking another sip. Konan wondered if he knew the alcohol content of his drink was much higher than her own.

Konan rested her chin on her hands, studying Yahiko thoughtfully. He seemed to be having trouble meeting her gaze. “So he taught you oil-style techniques, huh?”

“Uh, clearly.” Yahiko offered her a smile of his own. It looked sheepish. His cheeks were tinged red.

“But you know water style too – and maybe wind.” She frowned. “How’d you know? How’d you know oil would be the best one to go with against my clone?”

Yahiko shrugged. “Instinct,” he answered. Konan waited. “My oil style is strongest, actually. I thought it would have a better chance of hitting the clone than water.”

Konan made a non-committal hum. “Lucky guess, then.”

Yahiko’s eyes were fixed on his sake. “What can I say. I’m a lucky guy.”

Konan considered him. “You’re… sad?” She realised, a little surprised.

Yahiko’s face automatically broke into a grin. It didn’t quite catch his eyes. “Not really. It’s just, Jariyah once asked me to come here with him. Back when he was my full time sensei, years ago. Let’s just say, I’m only now realising… how much I’ve missed.” He exhaled. “Ever feel older than you really are? 'Cause I feel way too old to just be eighteen right now.”

Konan didn’t know what to say to that. “No, actually. Honestly, you’re… kind of weird,” she admitted. “But I like weird. In fact, I suspect this village specialises in weird.” She thought of Guy and his broccoli green jumpsuits, and then Kakashi and the majority of her interactions with him. “If you're serious about staying here, I'm sure you’ll fit in nicely.”

“Thanks. I think.” Yahiko laughed and this time it was more genuine. “But hey, seems like I’ve learned hell of a lot more ninja skill as a nomad out in Rain than you have here, so there’s that, I guess.”

Konan flicked his shoulder. She made sure to infuse a bit of chakra in it so it had a nice pinch. “You got lucky, bud. _Lucky_ being the key word. I dare you to try win against me when I’m serious.”

Yahiko took another swig of his drink. “Hey, I could go for another round right _now_. I’m still pretty steady on my feet.”

Konan rolled her eyes. “Then you clearly haven’t drunk enough.” She waved her hand, catching the bar-tender’s eye. “Another two over here!”

**

Tekka’s dinner with his family was, if possible, the most awkward meal they’d shared together since _that_ day.

Tekka hadn’t known what his parents would make of his wounds. Konan’s clone had healed him to the best of her abilities, and had deemed him well enough to stay out of the hospital, but he was far from his baseline. He had changed into long pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt to hide as much of his injuries as he could, despite the humidity of the evening. He’d even considered putting on a face mask before deciding it was too reminiscent of that jerk Kakashi.

It wasn’t enough. The moment he entered the dining room, his mother’s sharp eyes catalogued his injuries in an instant. She could’ve healed him, if she’d wanted to. Unlike Konan, she’d trained as a specialised medical ninja, one of the first to embrace Tsunade’s philosophy. But she didn’t say one word to him, merely offered him a stiff nod. Her eyes, once done roving over him, settled on the bowels of rice and meat placed artfully on the table.

_Eat._

Tekka settled down, already resigned to the evening ahead of them. Thankfully, his father wasn’t home yet – with any luck, he’d be working late and miss the meal altogether.

His sister, however, was young and brash and very much present. “Tekka, your face!” She gasped, pointing with her chubby toddler fingers. “What happened?”

Tekka’s mother pursed her lips, but he ignored her. Instead, he focused his attention on his sibling. “Just a bit of training, is all. It’s all part of being stronger, to keep this village safe. To keep _you_ safe,” he added, because she still looked concerned, and made sure to punctuate the ‘you’ with a soft poke of her belly. She squealed and started giggling, then caught sight of their mom’s sharp expression. Her humour evaporated obediently.

“Well, as long as you’re alright,” she mumbled, resting her eyes on the table. Then she was peeking at him. “Are you?”

“Of course,” Tekka lied. “Let’s eat.”

They ate the remaining meal in silence, as had become their new custom (at least whenever Tekka was at the table). Tekka had adapted to his new family dynamic, but his younger sister was too small to really understand what had happened and why. If his parents had their way, she never would. Tekka was too drained from arguing with his father to bother enlightening her yet. Maybe his parents _were_ right, maybe it would be better if she didn’t know. It certainly hadn’t brought him any comfort – whoever had said the truth will set you free clearly had never met the Uchiha clan.

The rest of the meal was silent, but passed by reasonably quickly. Tekka’s mind, for once, was preoccupied with something else – or rather, someone. That loser Kakashi. He might’ve won, but really he’d lost – his Sharingan was pathetic, impressive enough to any layman ninja, but nowhere near as strong as a true Uchiha could bring it to be. And if Tekka had thought that would make him feel any better, well, it hadn’t.

Perhaps it was because he’d let his mind wander that he didn’t hear the sound of the door opening, the soft thud as his father took off his shoes and entered their living room.

“Ah, so _you’re_ still here, are you.” His tone cut right through Tekka. It always did that, and no matter how much Tekka pretended like it didn’t, it always hurt him.

Honor. If there was one thing he believed his life to be about, it was that. Growing up, he’d thought there was no act more honourable than serving one’s clan. And despite the past few months, he _still_ thought that – _believed_ it. Which is why his father’s next word caught him completely off guard. “Good.”

Tekka almost choked. “Good?”

“Yes.” His father nodded curtly. “Good. I _do_ care about you after all. I still keep tabs on you. I’ve even heard that Hatake has been assigned to your team.” His father’s eyes lingered on his bruises, before he finally joined his family at the table. “Finish your dinner. But afterwards, we need to talk.”

**

_Oh god, here we go again_ , Konan thought as Yahiko took another stumble. This time, thankfully, he didn’t fall. In a stark contrast from earlier that evening, there was now barely any space between them. He was leaning against her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other resting gingerly against her waist. It was as if he thought she was made of glass or porcelain or some crap like that; even despite his inebriated state, he seemed reluctant to place his full body weight against her.

“I can hold you up, you know,” she reminded him. “Relax. Just, uh, as long as you don’t topple. You _and_ gravity together, that’s a bit too much.”

“Evil,” he groaned, his head warm against her shoulder, his hair tickling her left ear. Konan was aware of every point of contact between them. And even though she barely knew the guy, nothing about his close proximity felt _un_ comfortable. “You’re evil…”

“Excuse me! _I’m_ the one helping you back to your apartment when you can barely walk in a straight line.”

“After feeding me five of those awful drinks. I mean, I don’t want to act ungrateful, but what the _hell_ is wrong with Jariyah that he actually finds that horrible sake tasty?”

Konan laughed, despite herself. “Hey, I wasn’t the one feeding you anything. I just shouted the newbie some well-deserved refreshments. You’re the one who straight up drank the last two as one mega-shot.”

“I think I was on a buzz from drink three. Big mistake.” Yahiko wrinkled his nose, his lips pulling into a pout. “This was a big mistake. Next time, take better care of me Konan.”

And Konan, for the life of her, couldn’t quite explain the little thrill that shot through her at his words. At the inexplicable familiarity in them. So, she didn’t say anything at all. Instead, she helped him clamber up the stairs that wrapped around his apartment building. It was right in the centre of town, well within view of Hokage Tower.

“That one.” Yahiko pointed at a dark door. “That’s home sweet home.”

“Key.” Konan held out her free hand (the one that wasn’t wrapped around her comrade’s back.)

“Huh?” Yahiko said, blinking.

“House key. There’s no way you have the co-ordination to do anything other than collapse into bed.”

“I’m fine. The coffee helped, I think.” Yahiko made to move away, but seemed to lurch in place the moment he stood by himself. “Crap,” he groaned, as once again Konan gave him a hand, steadying him gently.

“I've got you, don't worry,” she said, trying her best to be soothing. “If it makes you feel any better, Jariyah usually crawls his way home after drinking that much.”

“Greaaat. I've got one up on pervy sage. Marginally.” Yahiko fumbled, handing her a bronze key. “Thanks.”

“It’s a captain’s duty to make sure her team stays whole,” Konan said easily, unlocking the door for him. “Now rest up. You’re going to have a hell of a hangover and hell of a trek tomorrow.”

Yahiko grunted, moving to scoot past her. But Konan sidled in his way, blocking the open door. “Just… one more question,” she added, meeting his golden gaze. This was it; the real reason she’d fed him all those drinks. The reason she’d do it again if she had to. If he really was a spy, they’d be good as dead once they set off with him. Of course, she figured that for him to be standing here, he couldn’t be. But people could make mistakes. People could be misled. She still had to hear it for herself. Or at least try. “Why’d you come here? To Konoha. Why’d you leave Rain?”

Yahiko swayed forwards a few steps. He opened his mouth. For a second, Konan thought he’d just move past her and mumble the same generic line (‘I came here for Jariyah, to escape the civil fighting in Rain’). They both knew he was beyond lying now. If he said it again, this time Konan would believe him.

Instead, he brought his face close to hers. Slowly, carefully, giving her every chance to push him away. Konan narrowed her eyes, focusing on his face, his eyes, his lips… Smiling ruefully.

When he spoke, his voice was low. Gravelly. “Honestly? To see you.” He glanced down at her, lashes framing his eyes, and kissed her cheek. It was over before she was really able to process it; he was suddenly gone, moving away, the space where he had been tellingly cold. She heard him mumble, as he closed the door behind him, “Good night, Ace.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I added to this story. 
> 
> Thank you to anyone who's read it, and a HUGE thanks to the lovely person who commented! Really means a lot to know you're enjoying the story, and invested in the characters! x :) 
> 
> I was re-reading this story, and realised this is probably the most thought out thing I've written. And I had this chapter lying in drafts, so I figured I may as well post it since someone was interested.
> 
> Will I finish it? Honestly, maybe (but full disclosure that will be 2 months away, when I have free time again). I do, however, realise this is quite a niche story. : L


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